You
by X-Hayze-chan-X
Summary: US/UK songfic request. You - Breaking Benjamin.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, I am proud to say that this songfic was 1820 words without the Author's Notes! **

**Alright. Basically, XbehindtheseaX requested that I do a songfic for 'You' by Breaking Benjamin because it's the perfect US/UK song. And after listening to it, I totally agree. This took a little while, and towards the middle I kinda cried while typing it. Just a little... **

**Alright, I wanna put a few warnings/disclaimers: **

**Disclaimer 1: I do not own APH or its various nouns, nor do I own the song or its artists or anything. I also don't own the requester. **

**Disclaimer 2: I didn't look up my facts on the Opium Wars or pretty much anything opium related, but I used opium as a recurring theme. It just seemed to fit. So, any inaccuracies don't matter because this is solely for the amusement of myself, the requester, and any readers. **

**Warnings: US/UK, swearing, drug abuse, angst... what I usually do, including the customary happy ending! **

**EDIT: If you see the end, I was gonna do a lemon... BUT... Iunno. It didn't seem right to drag out the songfic like this. If she who requested the fic wants it, then I'll do a second lemony chapter. I'd ask her before putting this up, but I wanna upload this NOW, dammit! However, I do take requests. So if you want a lemon, lime, fluff, songfic, addition to an existing story... I'll pretty much do anything along the guidelines set forth in the first chapter of 'Prussia's Playlist of Doom'. Seriously, though, you want it, you ask, I write it. That simple. (as long as you follow my small amount of rules... and there aren't that many and they're fairly reasonable...)**

**I had more I wanted to add, but I don't remember. Plus there's this really icky bug flying around my room and it's somehow freaking me out and pissing me off at the same time. I swear to God, I have no idea how the fuck it got here... *grumbles* **

_My hands are broken,  
and time is going on and on it goes,  
forever (how long?)_

America had left England years ago, and each year's extravagant birthday party was like a dagger to his heart. Every time it rained, he remembered that day when he knelt in the mud, knees weak and hands as broken as his spirit and his heart. That moment… It was the moment in which America left him. It was the moment when his world collapsed. And that one horrible moment would be with him forever.

_So I got high and,  
lived all that life  
that I have taken all for granted_

And then came the opium. He had already been smoking it for a couple hundred years, but barely, and only on rare occasions. Now, however, he became nearly dependent on it. When he was on opium, he could live like he wanted in his own little dream world. In his perfect world, America had never left him. They'd never battled in the rain.

But under the influence of opium, England let his true feelings show. Feelings that even he didn't know he harboured. Only when he was high did he come to terms with the fact that he… felt something for his… _former_ colony. But in his dream world it was alright. America was still by his side, and they would hug and kiss and…

But England didn't remember anything after coming down from his high. All he remembered was the fact that he no longer hurt. So he kept on doing it, no matter how harmful it was. He was a bloody Nation; he didn't need to worry about health the way humans did!

_Promise me you'll try  
to leave it all behind  
'Cause I've elected hell,_

And all too soon, it ended. He and China had those damn wars over opium and he swore off the stuff. But one day, around the early 21st Century, he felt that familiar pang in his heart, and he remembered the sheer bliss that opium seemed to give him all those years ago. So he thought, 'Why the hell not?' Getting drunk didn't do the trick. Somehow it seemed to make him more miserable. Well, that wasn't really true. Alcohol got his emotions and deep-seated bad feelings all to the outside, and left this slightly pleasant blur of numbness on the inside. It was like a mental novacaine. But he missed the bliss of opium.

That's when America found him.

"A-Arthur…?" America seemed shocked. Arthur snorted at this. He hadn't started yet, was just holding it, so he retained all of his bitterness and reason.

"Arthur, what the hell are you doing?" Alfred yelped. It was a maddening mix of painful, sad, endearing, and blissful to hear his name called in America's voice. Maddening, simply maddening!

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing, you bloody git?" Arthur snapped in reply.

"W-why would you do something like this?" America stuttered, deep blue eyes wide and questioning. Worry, concern, caring… England shook his head. America fucking left him – there was no way he could see any of that in the little prat's eyes.

"Why wouldn't I?" England retorted. America opened his mouth to interject, but England cut him off. Dropping the opium and jumping to his feet, he glared and started to shout. "I gave you everything you needed – I bloody _cared for you and loved you and you threw it away!_ Just because my boss needed money for some stupid war with that bastard France, you decide that gives you the right to throw everything away! You wanted to be fucking independent, well you've got it. You broke my heart, you twat. The least you could fucking do is let me get stoned and stave off the horrible feelings _you_ left me with – because you sure as hell aren't going to do anything about it!"

Alfred's eyes (when did they begin to get misty?) widened as the tears threatened to spill.

"Arthur," he said, voice cracking. "I never wanted to leave you. But… but you had to listen to your boss and I had to listen to my people, and they were so opposed… and… there was just something I needed you to see… But I wanted to stay with you… And I could have turned out better. I… Fuck, Arthur! You're not the only one who wishes it would have been different! You're not the only one who's heartbroken! Just… please promise me you'll try to leave it all behind! I've tried my best, and it still hurts, but if we can get over the past there's a whole future right there. I went through horrible things, too. My people elected war… I elected hell."

_  
lying to myself  
Why have I gone blind?  
Live another life_

Arthur tried to leave it behind, but he was lying to himself if he said it didn't hurt.

He wasn't just lying about that, though.

He should have realized sooner that Alfred leaving him hurt more than the others leaving him. He should have realized why. It was as if England had gone blind. But the worst part was that he was living another life in his dreams… and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure it out.

_The only way out  
is letting your guard down and never die  
forgotten (I know)  
Forgive me my love_

England knew what he had to do. He had to let his guard down. During a meeting, when America was giving another speech full of stupid, childish, naïve ideas, he finally let those thoughts roam free throughout his mind, coming to terms with the thoughts that only took charge when he was under the influence of opium. He came to terms with everything and it finally made sense why America leaving him hurt more than everyone else, why he fought harder to keep America, everything. And finally, after all these years, he smiled. He really truly smiled. And it wan't because he was talking to his (not imaginary!) friends, or because he had just got one-up on France, or because he was being bitter, or because he had a happy memory from the past. He smiled for the present, for the wonderful feelings and thought that he had finally let loose after nearly 250 years!

America, however, was worried. England hadn't said one word through his speech, and he was even smiling! Though, it really didn't seem like he was paying attention anyway…

_Fuck! _

Yes, America was sure that England had started the effing opium again.

After the meeting (which America ended early with a fake call from his boss), America confronted England. The Island Nation was still sitting at the table, this time with his head in his hands. When he came to terms with his feelings, he was positively euphoric. Then reality hit him. Alfred would never feel the same about him, and he could never tell the boy.

Because no matter what America said, England was still left behind, forgotten. He was forgotten.

He felt Alfred look at him. Arthur didn't see it; his head was in his hands and he was looking downward with his eyes covered. He knew Alfred was looking at him, and he knew what America was thinking.

"I know," he said simply.

"What?" asked Alfred quietly.

"I know what you're thinking, and I didn't." He sighed heavily. "I just came to terms with something. Though, gettnig stoned would indeed be a lot easier."

Alfred was relieved. Still, there was the problem of what had upset Arthur so badly. Sitting down next to the older Nation, (unbearably close!) he softly asked, "What did you come to terms with?"

And in that split second, England made a life-changing decision.

He lunged, kissing America's lips suddenly and passionately. This lasted for about three seconds. Just as the innitial shock wore off and America was about to kiss back, England pulled away. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, running away.

_  
I stand here all alone  
And I can see the bottom_

America stood there and touched his lips gently. Oh, God… So that was why… and why… and…

After another few dumbstruck moments, America ran after England as quickly as he could. And in a flash, he could see the bottom of his heart. He had loved England for so long; ever since he was a colony. Ever since just before the war. That was why he agreed to have that stupid revolution in the first place. If he were his own Nation, then England would see him as an equal… England could finally love him the way America always wished he would. They could be together… But that day in the rain, he realized what a horrible mistake he had made, and how truly wrong he was. And as soon as he caught up with England, he would tell him this.

_  
Promise me you'll try,  
to leave it all behind  
'Cause I've elected hell,  
lying to myself  
Why have I gone blind?  
Live another life_

Neither could leave the past behind, but they could both try together. America elected that hell, better known as revolution. England lied to himself for nearly 250 years. They were blind to the love of the other, each living another separate life.

But America and England were in love, and that was the driving force behind everything each one did.

Alfred caught up with Arthur, who was sobbing in the empty breakroom. Wrapping his arms around the shorter Nation, America gently yet forcefully guided their lips together. After a small moment of stunned surprise, he started to kiss back.

They added tongue and touch, England threading his fingers through America's hair and Alfred pressing his hands to the small of Arthur's back. Both actions brought the two closer together, closer than they had ever been. And they suddenly felt the need to feel each other's skin.

But they had waited for so many years, another hour wouldn't kill them. America pulled away slowly, a small trail of saliva connecting the two.

"I love you, Arthur. The revolution… I thought that if I were independent you would start to see me as an equal. I didn't want to, but I loved you so much more than what we had at the time, and I knew that you wouldn't accept that unless you thought I was mature. An adult. But I've tried and I've loved you, and I always have and always will. You and I are so different, but if we're together now then we might be able to start to let the past go. I love you."

Arthur, consumed with an inexplicable joy, could only nod and kiss his former colony once more.

It wasn't what they had.

It was better.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, XbehindtheseaX wanted this, so who was I to say no? **

**I'm sorry that it took so long, but school is a bitch. I stayed up really late writing this and now I have to get up in five hours. T.T Still, I think it was totally worth it. This is my second lemon, and it's got a twist - Iggy tops! -le gasp!- **

**Anyway, this is your Christmas present (or your present for whatever you do celebrate, in the event that you don't celebrate Christmas). Over break I'll also try to do those Germancest lemons I've been putting off, and that Itacest lemon that won't stop bugging me. **

**So, here's your lemony goodness (I hope to God I did well...)! The "slashy yummy lemony lemons" you wanted! Happy Holidays~!! **

**And thanks to acxmusic, XbehindtheseaX, ShatteredRose92, LithiumKiss, and sadeofraine for your reviews/favs/whatever (and I'm sorry if I forgot anyone, but my Yahoo! inbox is... blarg)! I love you all! **

**Same warnings/disclaimers, but now it's got sex. XD **

**Anyway, HAPPY FLIPPIN' HOLIDAYS! NOW READ MY FAIL-LIKE LEMON! **

It was an hour later, and the two had made it safely to England's house. As soon as they got in the bedroom door, England attacked America's lips hungrily with his own. America immediately kissed back, licking England's lips slowly, requesting entrance. Arthur smiled slightly and opened his mouth. Their tongues clashed, exploring each other's mouths until Arthur pulled away, trailing kisses and nips along his counterpart's jaw and throat, making Alfred moan slightly.

They fell to the bed, limbs entwined, lips meeting once more in a fevered embrace.

England took off America's bomber jacket and uniform top slowly as America did the same with England's top. They removed each other's undershirts slowly, memorizing the contours of the other's chest with their eyes and hands. England sucked the younger man's neck and gave an experimental jerk of his hips, making America gasp.

"Unh… A-Arthur," he moaned. "P- Please…"

"Please what?" he panted, enjoying having America like this.

America's flush deepened. "Please… I want you to…" He bit his lip and looked into England's eyes.

It was such an adorable sight, England couldn't resist.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It'll hurt…"

"Don't care!" Alfred said childishly. England chuckled. "What?" America demanded.

"You're just so adorable…" Arthur said fondly, making Alfred blush.

"Just… come on!" Alfred whined. England nodded and took off America's glasses, putting them on the bedside table.

Once he looked at Alfred, lying on the bed panting and flushing, without his glasses, something stirred within him. He liked this side of Alfred – it was almost as if he had the old Alfred back, only this one was better… And he could, y'know, have sex with this one.

Arthur ran his hands along Alfred's sides, nails scraping his skin lightly. Slowly, he undid Alfred's belt and pulled down his pants. The American Flag print boxers didn't even throw him off, because it was to be expected of Alfred. Instead he yanked them off and threw them on the floor, along with the rest of their clothing. He looked America up and down, marveling in the beauty of the man lying underneath him.

Alfred squirmed slightly at the close attention he was getting from England. Not that he didn't want it, mind you. Because, God, he'd wanted this for so long…

"Arthur…" he moaned, and the sound seemed to go straight to England's groin. Alfred looked pointedly at Arthur's own clothed (and painfully hard) organ, and Arthur got the hint. He smirked at the Nation underneath him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, slightly mocking the younger Nation.

Alfred growled from underneath Arthur, latching his lips to the elder's and working him out of his pants.

"Someone's a bit eager, hm?" England teased, pulling away from America's lips slightly to do so. Still, he couldn't protest to the ministrations of the other. Especially not when his former guardian's hand trailed down and gripped the base of his cock.

"Ngh," Alfred gasped, moaning pleasantly as the other Nation dragged his fingers along the shaft. "A-Arthur… Ah…" He just wanted England to get _on_ with it already. He wanted it, wanted it so bad it hurt. So bad it sent shivers up his spine and tingles through his body and the heat _oh god the heat_, it made him feel like he was going to _explode_ from the sheer _ecstasy…_

England put three fingers at America's lips and said, "Suck." Who was he to deny the lust-crazed empire? He knew what was about to happen, and he knew how badly it would hurt, but how could he care with that look in England's eyes? How could he even try to care with the way he felt, with how long he had waited…

America ran his tongue along England's long fingers, licking and sucking and coating them thoroughly in saliva before England pulled them out with a _pop_ and positioned them at America's entrance.

"Are you ready?" he asked, not even trying to keep the want and need out of his voice. America nodded once and clenched his eyes shut at the unfamiliar sensation as England inserted a finger into his ass. Arthur added another finger, making him wince and tears form at his eyes. It was an unpleasant feeling, Arthur scissoring him, but he knew that it would get better.

And he was right. When Arthur added the third finger, he felt a horrible tearing, making him cry out in agony. Arthur kissed him apologetically, still moving his fingers, and Alfred's cries turned to those of ecstacy when England brushed a certain spot inside him that made him see white.

"Arthur! Oh, God!" he screamed. England brushed the spot a few more times and made a mental note of where it was. He would need that knowledge later on. After a few more strokes, England deemed America properly prepped. A little impatiently, he spread the younger man's legs and positioned himself at the entrance.

"Are you ready?" he asked one more time. "If I move just a little bit, we can never go back. I hope you know that."

Alfred leaned up and kissed him on the lips, pouring all his passion and love in. When he pulled away, leaving England slightly disoriented (_how the bloody hell did he get so _good_ at that?) _he said, "I know. I've known for a long time. I want this Arthur. If you do too, then please, _fuck me now!_"

How could England deny this request? So slowly, softly, he pushed himself into the younger man, making him yell out in agony. England gave him a bit to adjust, until he heard a shaky, "Go," from America.

He shoved into America slowly at first, trying to let him get used to the feeling, holding back even though he just wanted to ram into him and feel the glorious friction. However, America murmured a quiet plea, "F-faster…" and England simply couldn't deny this request.

England started pounding harder until he found Alfred's prostate once again. Then he pulled all the way out and rammed back in as hard as he could, angling toward that pleasurable bundle of nerves inside his beloved America. He repeated this action a few times until he descended into a pleasurable rhythym, pounding into Alfred quickly and with as much force as he could possibly muster.

The friction, the heat, oh God… It was as if this place was _made_ for him, this wonderful part of Alfred that was now all his.

They were screaming, moaning, panting, gasping, crying each other's names and wishing that this could last forever, yet wanting it to end, _oh please God, I can't take much more, ah, I want this to stretch on forever, God, I'm gonna – _

England had started to pump America as he was pounding into the other, reaching his prostate perfectly with each powerful thrust, and it was too much, simply too much for the younger man to bear…

"Arthur, I'm gonna… I can't… Ah!"

"Oh, Alfred, I… Ungh…"

Alfred came all over their stomachs as Arthur exploded his seed into the younger man. Each came crying the other's name.

England pulled out tiredly and draped a sheet over them both. They lay in each other's arms, calming their rapid hearts and accelerated breathing, until Alfred spoke.

"I love you, Arthur. Being without you… it's always hurt me. And when I found out about the opium I was so afraid, I thought I could lose you. And then I found out it was my fault…"

England silenced him with his lips. "Bloody git… I've loved you for so long… and I feel exactly the same. I need you by my side, and I want you to be safe and happy. And I don't want you ever thinking that me doing a stupid thing was your fault. Understand?"

Alfred nodded, kissing Arthur softly, lovingly, passionately. They stayed in each other's embrace all through the night, past the early morning, and well into the afternoon.

And as far as either cared, they were never letting go.


End file.
